


Estate of Sirius Black v Ministry of Magic

by George_Pushdragon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-16
Updated: 2007-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24104659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/George_Pushdragon/pseuds/George_Pushdragon
Summary: Honestly! Who is in charge of Occupational Health & Safety at the Ministry? Brains in tanks and unmarked dimensional portals! In this little trial transcript, Sirius' estate gets litigious, Fudge talks facial hair, Lucius struggles with life in the clink, and Albus Dumbledore has only one buttock. Naturally.





	1. Estate of Sirius Black v Ministry of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> This is super old fic that I'm archiving here because that's what archives are for. It was written when Order of the Phoenix was just new.

TRIAL TRANSCRIPT  
ESTATE OF SIRIUS BLACK v MINISTRY OF MAGIC  
DAY 6 - AFTERNOON SESSION

BEFORE HER HONOUR, LADY JUSTICE MARCHBANKS  
COUNSEL FOR THE PLAINTIFF: MINERVA McGONAGALL  
COUNSEL FOR THE DEFENDANT: MR TROMEDLOV

MARCHBANKS: When we adjourned for lunch I believe we were part way through examination-in-chief. You may resume your examination, Mr ... are you sure we haven't met? There's something very familiar about you, Mr Tromedlov.

TROMEDLOV: It must the balaclava, your honour. Perhaps you knew someone else who wore one. We all look the same in suspiciously concealing headwear.

MARCHBANKS: No doubt. But your eyes, Mr Tromedlov. I'll be blunt with you. Red eyeballs give me the willies.

TROMEDLOV: Ignorant cretin! Cruci-

MARCHBANKS: I beg your pardon!

TROMEDLOV: Croquet, your honour. Bad for the eyes. Makes them red.

MARCHBANKS: I'll be keeping a close eye on *you* Mr Tromedlov. Do you have any further questions for this witness?

TROMEDLOV: Let me at 'em!

MARCHBANKS: Very well. Recall Cornelius Oswald Fudge. Oh dear. Mr Fudge, we discussed this yesterday. Kindly cover up that T-shirt. There is only one 'o' in Dumbledore and I believe you are mistaken about the Professor's dietary habits. That cap will have to go too. And the badges - yes, all of them. Apart from the insult to Albus, I doubt you'd make that accusation if you'd ever smelled a mooncalf up close. That's better. Mr Tromedlov, please proceed.

TROMEDLOV: Minister. As you are aware, this is a claim by the estate of the late Sirius Black arising out of an incident involving a portal into the afterlife. Are you following so far?

FUDGE: Albus Dumbledore has twelve kinds of venereal disease.

TROMEDLOV: You don't say. In view of the seriousness of this action and its repercussions for Magical Health and Safely, I am compelled to ask you ... Minister, do I have your full attention?

FUDGE: Possibly thirteen.

TROMEDLOV: Minister, how do you feel about Muggles?

FUDGE: Er ...

TROMEDLOV: Do you like them?

FUDGE: Well ...

TROMEDLOV: Have you ever tried one simmered in garlic and white wine until it's *just so*, the flesh simply melting in your mouth, the flavour balanced with just a nip of chilli and -

McGONAGALL: Your Honour, I must object!

MARCHBANKS: That question will be struck out. Mr Tromedlov, do try to keep to the point. Ugh. And either put on some sunglasses or try not to look at me.

TROMEDLOV: As you wish, your honour. Minister, how would you describe the Ministry offices?

FUDGE: They're very practical. Imposing, if I do say so myself.

TROMEDLOV: Exactly! Not exactly inspiring, are they? You know what you need?

FUDGE: More abstract sculpture?

TROMEDLOV: A steakhouse. A big chargrill with eight kinds of fries and one kind of salad and really really big skewers! Muggle grills, Minister, that's what I'm talking about. Crispy on the outside, bloody on the inside, absolutely deee-licious -

MARCHBANKS: Counsel for the defence will desist from -

TROMEDLOV: - now *that's* what I call a drumstick! -

MARCHBANKS: Mr Tromedlov! Silence! You are hereby -

TROMEDLOV: Avada kedav- oops.

MARCHBANKS: Did you just say what I think you said?

TROMEDLOV: No. Yes. No.

MARCHBANKS: Don't think you can put one over on me, Mr Tromedlov. I'm onto you. One more question about cooking Muggles and you'll be dangling your balls in a steel trap called contempt. Am I clear?

TROMEDLOV: Oh yes. Now, Minister. Do you know any recipes for Muggle tartare?

MARCHBANKS: Enough! I will allow no more questions for the defendant. Ms McGonagall, do you wish to cross-examine?

McGONAGALL: Thank you, your honour. Mr Fudge, I believe you are the Minister of Magic.

FUDGE: Well that depends.

McGONAGALL: On what?

FUDGE: ...

McGONAGALL: Don't look at Mr Malfoy. With a little effort you should be able to answer this one yourself. Are you the Minister of Magic?

FUDGE: Look! A Quintaped is eating the jury!

McGONAGALL: Mr Fudge, I can still see your hat poking up. Please step back into the witness box and answer the question. Are you the Minister of Magic?

FUDGE: Sometimes.

McGONAGALL: Never mind. Turning now to the events of Thursday 20th of June in the Department of Mysteries. How would you describe the security in the Ministry of Magic?

FUDGE: Industry best practice.

McGONAGALL: Really?

FUDGE: Oh yes. Top of the range, state of the art, ticketty-boo.

McGONAGALL: And yet twelve Death Eaters, seven of them recent escapees from Azkaban, managed to enter the building undetected.

FUDGE: Well they used a pretty underhanded strategy.

McGONAGALL: Are you saying they used unforgivable curses?

FUDGE: Fake beards.

McGONAGALL: Your ticketty-boo security system was foiled by artificial facial hair?

FUDGE: They were good beards! You could hardly see the elastic at all.

McGONAGALL: Minister -

FUDGE: I'm not kidding. These guys were serious. For example, Antonin Dolohov already has a beard, so he wore spirally glasses. This was a sophisticated operation.

McGONAGALL: Minister, if you would kindly turn to paragraph 11.4 of the defence, in which the Ministry pleads "The Ministry denies the allegation that its security wards were non-existent, risible or in any way less than kick-arse." Do you maintain that denial?

FUDGE: Yes. Only a criminal mastermind could have got past our wards.

McGONAGALL: Is Harry Potter a criminal mastermind?

FUDGE: He could be.

McGONAGALL: Was he wearing a false beard when he entered the Ministry building?

FUDGE: ...

McGONAGALL: Minister?

FUDGE: Albus Dumbledore smells like poo.

McGONAGALL: Mr Fudge, is it true that Harry Potter and five teenage friends gained entry to the Ministry complex without even the subterfuge of false facial hair?

FUDGE: [inaudible]

MARCHBANKS: Let the record show that the witness made an obscene gesture. We shall take that as an affirmative. Ms McGonagall, please continue.

McGONAGALL: I ask that the witness be shown exhibit P2, a picture of the room in the Department of Mysteries where the events in question took place. Minister, what are the contents of this room?

FUDGE: I don't know. It's a mystery.

McGONAGALL: Is it an archway to the afterlife?

FUDGE: No.

McGONAGALL: This arch-shaped structure, what is it?

FUDGE: An archway.

McGONAGALL: And where does it lead?

FUDGE: The afterlife

McGONAGALL: So what would you call it?

FUDGE: Albus Dumbledore has only one buttock.

McGONAGALL: Would you say that a gateway to the afterlife is a public hazard under Decree Eleven for Public Safety?

FUDGE: Well a potato can be hazardous in the wrong hands.

McGONAGALL: Can a potato transport a person irrevocably into the realm of the dead?

FUDGE: I'm no scientist. You'll have to ask the Minister for Vegomancy.

MARCHBANKS: Mr Fudge, you are treading a fine line between impertinence and having your testicles transfigured into live Fire Crabs. I have no time for your quibbling.

FUDGE: Oh, all right then. Maybe the archway was dangerous.

McGONAGALL: And under the Eleventh Decree, what is the prescribed procedure for dealing with hazardous objects.

FUDGE: Put them in an unlocked room behind an innocent looking curtain?

McGONAGALL: No.

FUDGE: Was I close?

McGONAGALL: Not even lukewarm. Have another look at the picture. Are there any protective barriers around the archway?

FUDGE: No exactly, no.

McGONAGALL: Is there a sign saying "WARNING; one-way portal to the underworld?"

FUDGE: Not in those exact words.

McGONAGALL: Is there any signage at all?

FUDGE: There's a little one in the corner there.

McGONAGALL: What does it say?

FUDGE: "These steps were proudly constructed by Ollerton Industries Limited".

McGONAGALL: And what is the floor made of?

FUDGE: Stone.

McGONAGALL: More specifically?

FUDGE: Polished marble with three coats of extra smooth wax.

McGONAGALL: So would you admit that the Ministry breached its duty of care to Mr Black by failing to take adequate steps to minimise the danger posed by the archway?

FUDGE: ...

McGONAGALL: Look at *me*, Mr Fudge. I assure you that Mr Malfoy does not have the answers. Mr Malfoy has nothing but a lumpy bed in the high security section of Azkaban and a newfound aversion to the expression "Who's your Daddy?" He will be returning to his cell at the end of this hearing. Now, Minister, in answer to my question -

FUDGE: Albus Dumbledore frottages with chickens.

McGONAGALL: Do you deny -

FUDGE: Barbequed chickens.

McGONAGALL: Your honour, I have no further questions.

***


	2. Who's your daddy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Inquiry into Conditions at Azkaban Prison. A sequel to Estate of Sirius Black v Ministry of Magic. (More ancienty history - this one is Pre-Deathly Hallows)

FUDGE: I hereby open the official Ministry inquiry into the conditions at Azkaban prison. All present say 'Ay'.

PERCY: Ay.

FUDGE: Very good. Did you make a note of that, Weasley?

PERCY: Ay.

FUDGE: Present: Percy Weasley. And I can't help feeling there's someone missing.

PERCY: Well, there's you, Minister.

FUDGE: Ah, so there is. Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Oddments and Miscellany. Make a note of that too. And put it somewhere I won't lose it.

PERCY: Yes, Minister.

FUDGE: Now, in response to the most recent claims made by the Estate of Sirius Black - namely false arrest, false imprisonment, cruel and unusual punishment, torture, deprivation of liberty, defamation of character, gross trespass to person, assault, battery and inadequate provision of hair care facilities, I hereby find all claims unfounded - Weasley, you're stepping on my foot. Unfounded, spurious, malicious - Weasley, please! You're going to bruise my arm if you keep poking me like that.

PERCY: Minister, we went through this. Inquiry first, findings later. I wrote it on your hand yesterday.

FUDGE: Where?

PERCY: The first place to look is the end of your arm.

FUDGE: I see. You're making fun, are you? Easy enough to do when the burdens and whatnots of command are shouldered by others. Well, why don't you have a taste of real responsibility? You chair the inquiry and I'll hold up the Ministry of Magic sign.

PERCY: Minister, I'm afraid that would be -

FUDGE: Go your hardest, lad! It's not as easy as it looks.

PERCY: Well … it's highly irregular, but out of a profound sense of duty ... hmm hmm ... By the power delegated in me through the supreme house of the Wizengamot, I hereby call -

FUDGE: Weasley, isn't there some sort of stand? This sign's rather heavy, you know.

PERCY: I hereby call this inquiry to order.

_[knocking without]_

PERCY: Enter.

FUDGE: I know you! You're um …

VOLDE-MORTON: Volde-Morton. The name's Volde-Morton. Mister.

FUDGE: You're very familiar, you know! Got it! You wrote that book.

VOLDE-MORTON: No.

FUDGE: Not "'Oops, Where's My Sphincter' and Other Famous Wand Accidents"?

VOLDE-MORTON: No.

FUDGE: Well I know you from somewhere. Red eyes aren't that common. Not related to that Tromedlov, are you? What a cock-up! Halfway through the trial we catch him Imperio-ing one of the stenographers, turns out he's been the Dark Lord all along! And you know the worst thing? He wasn't even a member of the Advocate's Guild. Breach of Decree 32! Boy, was there egg on some judicial faces that day! That old slapper Marchbanks won't dare show her face at the Frock & Gavel for a good while yet.

PERCY: What can we do for you, Mr Volde-Morton?

VOLDE-MORTON: I've come to deliver a pizza.

PERCY: A pizza? Minister, did you order a pizza?

VOLDE-MORTON: Mexicana, extra mushrooms, hold the pickled Murtlap.

FUDGE: It'll be that clown Dumbledore again. Thinks he's such a wit, doesn't he.

PERCY: Ah, Minister, Professor Dumbledore is -

VOLDE-MORTON: Now that I'm here, can I stay and watch the inquiry?

PERCY: Minister -

FUDGE: Have a seat, son! Have a seat. Take off your dark glasses and bandana.

VOLDE-MORTON: I'd rather not. They do make me look like a rock star.

FUDGE: D'you think? Here. Take this seat next to me. Hold up the other end of this sign.

PERCY: Minister, I really think -

FUDGE: Not as easy as is looks, is it? It's all in the wrist action. Careful there old boy, you've dropped a scale.

PERCY: Minister, he's not authorised!

FUDGE: He's holding the sign! You can't get more authorised than that. Now chop chop. On with the findings.

PERCY: The inquiry. If you think it best, Minister. I call to the stand the first witness, Dolores Jane Umbridge.

_[Enter DOLORES UMBRIDGE]_

UMBRIDGE: Good morning, Minister. Percy. And - ooh I know you! Didn't you dance in the Wet Wizard Male Revue with Stubby Boardman?

VOLDE-MORTON: No.

UMBRIDGE: Are you sure?

VOLDE-MORTON: I never danced. I only played maracas.

PERCY: Miss Umbridge, if you please. The inquiry requires your assistance. Would you begin by describing your current role for the record.

UMBRIDGE: I am Senior Chief Administratrix of Prisons.

PERCY: How long have you been in that role?

UMBRIDGE: Seven and a half years, omitting my eleven month - hem hem - secondment to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

PERCY: And what are the responsibilities of your position?

UMBRIDGE: Oh, too many to name. Administrating ... presiding ... overseeing ...

PERCY: Could you be more -

UMBRIDGE: And last week I knitted a little cardigan to go over the "Azkaban" sign in cold weather.

PERCY: Thank you. The Estate of Sirius Black claims that conditions in Azkaban were inhumane. Could you describe your policy on prison standards? For instance, do you believe in the rehabilitation of inmates?

UMBRIDGE: Oh yes.

PERCY: On the contrary, it is claimed that -

UMBRIDGE: Lies! Rehabilitation is the cornerstone of our philosophy. We conduct our rehabilitation via textbook methods.

VOLDE-MORTON: Do you mean you beat the prisoners with a copy of "Arithmancy for Beginners"?

UMBRIDGE: Don't be absurd. "Vorbin's Necromancer" is far more aerodynamic and comes with iron studs on the cover.

PERCY: Yes, thank you Mr Volde-Morton. Now, Miss Umbridge, submissions to this inquiry have suggested that more than half of Azkaban's inmates are innocent.

UMBRIDGE: Really? Innocent of what exactly?

PERCY: Ah. Let me put it this way. The papers submitted by the Estate of Sirius Black claim that throughout his prison term he protested his innocence and demanded what he described as "a fair trial".

FUDGE: How dare he! A fair trial is the sacred right and thingummy of the innocent! Why on earth would we give them to criminals and murderers?

PERCY: Thank you Minister. The sign's listing slightly to the left, you know. Miss Umbridge, the core of Mr Black's claim is that he was not, in fact a murderer.

UMBRIDGE: If only I'd known he said that. We'd have added perjury to his list of charges.

PERCY: Miss Umbridge, where does the Ministry obtain the information it uses to convict the inmates of Azkaban?

UMBRIDGE: The Ministry has many well-placed informants.

PERCY: Where?

UMBRIDGE: Primarily at Hogwarts. We have a number of highly trained informants within the Ministry itself.

PERCY: How many spies have you placed within the Death Eater movement?

UMBRIDGE: Over the last fifteen years? I'm not at liberty to say.

PERCY: This is an official enquiry, Miss Umbridge. I will require your response.

UMBRIDGE: Well ... I can tell you it has a one in it.

PERCY: A one? Is it ... fifteen?

UMBRIDGE: Good god no! Less.

PERCY: Ten?

UMBRIDGE: Getting warmer.

PERCY: Is it one?

UMBRIDGE: Well, give or take. That's a round figure. Seasonally adjusted.

PERCY: Seasonally adjusted for what?

UMBRIDGE: He was discovered and killed eighteen months ago.

PERCY: Can I help you with something Mr Volde-Morton? You seem to have got something stuck in your throat.

VOLDE-MORTON: Oh no. Please continue. I'm sure we'd all like to hear how this poor spy met his unfortunate demise. Let me guess, turned into a box of paper clips and fed to the Nifflers.

UMBRIDGE: You've read the top-secret report!

VOLDE-MORTON: No no, just a lucky guess.

FUDGE: Excuse me old chap, I couldn't help noticing you've dropped your copy of "Hatch and Train Your Own Basilisk For Dark Purposes".

VOLDE-MORTON: Cheers. They were giving those away free with subscriptions to Gnome Fanciers' Weekly, you know.

PERCY: Finally, Miss Umbridge, we must turn to the matter of your staff. Would you say that you enjoy a mutually supportive relationship with your staff?

UMBRIDGE: I wouldn't say I enjoy it, no.

PERCY: If I may go further, upon hearing of your imminent return from Hogwarts to Azkaban, the entire workforce promptly resigned. Can you explain why?

UMBRIDGE: A storm in a teacup. A minor procedural change. Instead of the musty old black those Dementors used to get about in, I designed a lovely little jacket in fuschia with the letter "A" picked out in indigo on the pockets.

PERCY: Is that all?

UMBRIDGE: Yes. And there was the beret. Also in fuschia.

PERCY: Thank you.

UMBRIDGE: And there was the smart little rosette with the staff member's picture and the words "Welcome to Azkaban".

PERCY: Thank you Miss Umbridge.

UMBRIDGE: And there was the team-building personal development weekend.

PERCY: Thank you! You may step down. This is an opportune moment to summon the next witness. I call Spokesman for the Dementor Union, Reginald H. Whooter.

REG: Yes?

UMBRIDGE: Knickers!

VOLDE-MORTON: Hell and buggery!

PERCY: It's common practice for witnesses to use the door, Mr Whooter. Please bear that in mind next time. Would someone kindly pick the Ministry of Magic sign up off the floor. And the Minister.

REG: Sorry, mate. The window was open. And call me Reg.

PERCY: Never mind. Now Reg, you are, as I understand it, a Dementor.

REG: That I am.

PERCY: You don't sound like one

REG: Oh, I can do the old howl of death as chilling as anyone. You don't think we go on like that all the time, do you? How would we manage to order a pint, or make prank phone calls, or take part in amateur productions of old favourites such as Pirates of Penzance or Starlight Express?

PERCY: Oh.

REG: Taking a step back, though, 's a bit of an ock health 'n safety issue, innit, the door thing. What with us Dementors not having what you'd call fingers, not in the humanoid sense. Could compromise our bodily safety in the event of fire or flood. What'd you say, guv'na?

PERCY: Are you suggesting we have the doors removed from the prison? Clearly if they're creating a fire risk, they'll have to go. But for the time being, could we -

REG: 'S not just the doors, guv'na. 'as only the first of the grievances set forth in our petition to Management before we commenced our current campaign of industrial self-expression. There's the toilet facilities, for example.

UMBRIDGE: Oh heavens! This is typical of the demands I have to deal with every day. Toilet facilities! You don't have any bowels.

REG: Yep, and that's about the size of it, innit. No bowels, no rights. 's discrimination against unbowelled lifeforms, 'as what it is.

PERCY: Thank you! To get to the heart of it, Mr Whooter, can you describe the conditions endured by the prisoners in Azkaban?

REG: The prisoners?! Hah! Don't make me laugh. Didn't have it half as bad as us, did they, three squares a day and no bloody work to do.

PERCY: Thank you Mr Whooter. You may stand down.

REG: Aren't I entitled to some witness expenses? 's a bloody pest coming here. All this walking about puts a strain on the old leg muscles, you know.

UMBRIDGE: You wretched little Bolshevik!You don't have any legs!

PERCY: Miss Umbridge, it would greatly assist our claim to impartiality if you would refrain from beating witnesses with a chair. Miss Umbridge ... oh bloody hell. Quiet please! I call the next witness, Lucius Malfoy. Mr Malfoy?

FUDGE: Nope, definitely not here. Let's skip to the lunch break before my fingers get cramped.

PERCY: Mr Malfoy!

_[Enter LUCIUS MALFOY]_

LUCIUS: Ah, good morning gentlemen, Dolores. My apologies. I was ... occupied.

PERCY: Thank you Mr Malfoy. Please put that candleholder away and take a seat in the witness box. Now, Mr Malfoy, you have been called here to provide a perspective on the conditions at Azkaban prison, where you are currently serving out the remainder of your eight year sentence, and in particular to elaborate on a complaint you have filed.

LUCIUS: A series of complaints, if you would care to be precise.

PERCY: "Series" rather sells it short, don't you think? Your prison file required the building of a new annex beneath the exercise yard.

LUCIUS: I'm a great believer in customer feedback.

PERCY: If I may cite a few examples from your voluminous record: April the fifth. "Request to be moved to a shared cell." Request denied. Next entry, April the sixth. "Request to be moved to a shared cell." Request denied. Next entry, April the ninth. "Request company of small pet, eg gerbil, hamster, guinea pig." Hamster provided. Next entry, April the tenth. "Hamster deceased. Request new hamster. Slightly smaller this time." Request denied.

UMBRIDGE: And rightly so! You should have seen the state the first one was in when we got it back. It was covered in bald patches ... and sticky!

PERCY: April the twelfth. "Suffering extreme dermatitis caused by barbaric conditions and stress. Request to be provided with large amount of oil, lotion or similar. And a rolling pin."

LUCIUS: I might as well have been talking to the wall.

PERCY: April the thirteenth. "Urgent action required. Eyesight failing from lack of fresh vegetables. Request to be provided with a courgette. Failing that, a large carrot. Failing that, a turnip, preferably on the elongated side." Request granted.

LUCIUS: And might I note that the two pounds of frozen peas provided did not satisfy my needs in the slightest.

PERCY: I'm sensing a theme here, Mr Malfoy. A theme that suggests you were using Azkaban's facilities for carnal purposes.

LUCIUS: I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about.

PERCY: Let me put it bluntly. You were out to get rogered by anything that moved. And a number of things that didn't - the cost of that chairleg has been added on to your sentence, by the way.

LUCIUS: As I said at the time, I slipped on some criminally threadbare carpet. My prison term has been the height of chastity and I defy you to prove otherwise.

PERCY: We are amply furnished with evidence, Mr Malfoy. For instance, Aberforth Dumbledore claims to have had consensual relations with you three times on Tuesday the sixteenth of August alone.

LUCIUS: Is that so? I don't recall it.

PERCY: According to his deposition he - and I quote - "bent you over the bedhead and buggered you into next week".

LUCIUS: Oh, that. I had no idea of his intentions. He told me it was Indian massage.

PERCY: Really? Three times? What about Benedict Goyle, who claims he had you under the dining hall table in September?

LUCIUS: If he did, I didn't know it. He told me he was looking for a lost sock.

PERCY: And Rudolphus Lestrange in the laundry?

LUCIUS: He told me it would help me pick up cable television. How was I to know?

PERCY: Mr Malfoy, I feel you are not being frank with this inquiry. You feign innocence, but I put it to you that the inmates of C-Block Azkaban went through you like peak hour traffic through a Kings Cross tube turnstile.

VOLDE-MORTON: Playing hard to get were you, Lucius?

LUCIUS: Ha! Some friend you turned out to be.

VOLDE-MORTON: Did I say I was your friend?

LUCIUS: You said you knew a good way to cure a sore throat. Lying bastard.

PERCY: Mr Malfoy! For one last time, I put it to you that your prison term has been more debauchery than deterrence.

LUCIUS: I protest! I am a victim. Azkaban is a hotbed of filth and brutality the likes of which would make a troll blush.

VOLDE-MORTON: You couldn't pay for that sort of treatment, could you Lucius?

PERCY: Quiet! Mr Malfoy, if Azkaban is as dreadful as you claim, why is it you've never tried to escape?

LUCIUS: To what?

PERCY: Why is it you've made no real attempt to get back to the service of your lord and master?

VOLDE-MORTON: Good point.

LUCIUS: Well, obviously. Clearly I … You have to consider.

UMBRIDGE: It would be futile. Escape from Azkaban is impossible.

LUCIUS: Yes, impossible.

UMBRIDGE: Unquestionably.

PERCY: Miss Umbridge, would you oblige us by taking a roll call of the current inmates of Azkaban prison?

UMBRIDGE: Certainly. Where's my list? There we are. Malfoy, Lucius.

LUCIUS: Present.

UMBRIDGE: Dumbledore, Aberforth.

PERCY: And?

UMBRIDGE: Well there we are then.

PERCY: That's all, isn't it?

UMBRIDGE: We are awaiting updated census figures. You can't be too careful.

PERCY: Miss Umbridge, is it true that every single inmate of Azkaban prison apart from Aberforth Dumbledore and Lucius Malfoy has escaped - in some cases more than once?

UMBRIDGE: I'm not sure I understand you.

PERCY: I put it to you that even the sorry remnants of Mr Malfoy's virtue are better guarded than your prison.

UMBRIDGE: Look, Augustus Rookwood is coming back any day now. He only went to visit his sick grandmother in New Zealand.

LUCIUS: Hold on a minute! I did try to saw through the bars with a crust of bread.

PERCY: What about the others, Miss Umbridge?

LUCIUS: And I trained a cockroach to fetch the keys for me.

UMBRIDGE: I expect some of them are just taking a long time in the shower block.

LUCIUS: No, the shower block is empty. I checked quite thoroughly.

PERCY: If I may summarise, Azkaban's only inmates are Mr Malfoy, who clearly does not wish to leave, and Mr Dumbledore, who checked in as a voluntary inmate after a particularly shameful incident with a goat.

LUCIUS: He's a broken man. Nancy never visits him.

PERCY: In the circumstances, I am forced to conclude that any further investigation would be a waste of resources. After a full morning of submissions, we have gained nothing but self-serving obfuscation-

VOLDE-MORTON: And a pizza: Mexicana, extra mushrooms, hold the pickled Murtlap.

LUCIUS: And a candleholder. Slightly sticky.

FUDGE: Don't tell me I've been holding this blasted sign up all day for nothing!

LUCIUS: I blame myself. You may make me the object of your wrath.

PERCY: I officially declare this inquiry-

LUCIUS: Truly, Minister. Punishment is in order. I believe this merits the paddle and cuffs.

PERCY: Mr Malfoy, please! I officially declare this inquiry at -

LUCIUS: I also respond quite favourably to the harness.

PERCY: Guards! Take Mr Malfoy back to his cell.

LUCIUS: Wait! Tell Harry Potter there's still one place he hasn't looked for the last Horcrux! Cell C-2. Bring plenty of butter.

PERCY: This inquiry is closed.

_Transcript ends._

****

Epilogue

PERCY: Mr Malfoy. You asked to see me.

LUCIUS: Did I?

PERCY: Apparently. Something about protocol?

LUCIUS: Ah yes. Now I believe one of the fine-print prison regulations requires that inmates returning to the facility should be subjected to a thorough search.

PERCY: Really? Then certainly it must be done. You've brought your own rubber gloves? How decent of you, Mr Malfoy. Do bend over and take your trousers down.

LUCIUS: I advise you to be thorough. You'll find a number of those extremely small soap cakes are missing from the bathrooms. And a little screw out of the cabinet. And the plug. And the door handle. A hundred Galleons says you can't locate them all.

*

_end_


End file.
